


The Art of Maintaining Silences

by vtn



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, F/M, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-06
Updated: 2006-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/pseuds/vtn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal and Polly have trouble keeping quiet in the camp.  Spoilers for Monstrous Regiment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Maintaining Silences

It’s the middle of the night, and Polly hears a sound.At first it sounds a bit like a small animal or a frog, and she turns around in her blanket and shuts her eyes, telling herself it will only be a short while until she can find Paul.She’s only got to get that one sound out of her mind, and she can sleep, oh wonderful sleep…

Then she hears Maladict say a word that she would never dream of repeating, no matter what the inclination of the socks may be.Needless to say, this gets her attention.

Maladict adds to that word a few more, almost as if he’s starting a nest and those choice words are the large twigs at the bottom.He then weaves in some thinner twigs and little bits of string in the form of incoherent mumblings. It’s not till Polly starts hearing thumps, however, that she figures it’s time to investigate.

“Oh, how d’you do, Ozzer?” Maladict asks from somewhere on the floor.Polly pokes around until she finds his sleep-ringed eyes peering out from under an unruly frizz of blond hair.

“Well, _I’m_ just fine, but you don’t look too good for the wear.Anything I can get for you?”She stays a bit on edge; black ribbon or no, he _is_ a vampire.And she hasn’t really ever dealt with an angry vampire before, nor is she particularly interested in finding out what it entails.She finds herself laughing despite herself, though.“Hairbrush?”

“And you have a hairbrush _why_ , exactly, _Oliver_?”Maladict stresses the words in such a way that Polly flushes deeply.

“I…was…just joking?”

“Mm, I’m sure.”

“Anyway, _do_ you need anything?I’m not just being polite here; I won’t be able to sleep with you carrying on like—” Maladict waves a hand to stop her.

“No, well, there is—but never mind that.”

“You can’t mean…”

“No, no, not what you think.Just…ignore me.”Maladict sinks back onto the floor, head in his arms.Another long groan escapes his lips.

“Please shut your—shut _up_.”Maladict seems to consider the request, but decide ultimately to ignore it.Polly, getting rather fed up and huffy by this point, clamps a hand over his mouth.“I mean it.I’m tired, and I’m hungry, and I’m probably just as pissed—as annoyed—no, as _pissed_ off as you are.”

“Mmph,” says Maladict.Polly smirks.Suddenly there’s a sharp pain at her hand, and she realizes she’s just been bitten.The blood drains from her cheeks; she can practically feel it.Instinctively, she draws away.

“Sorry, old habit,” says Maladict.“Don’t worry, I didn’t break the skin.I can…usually _tell_ if I do.”He licks his lips, then a shudder overtakes him.“But never mind that.Go to bed.I’ll be…oh _damn_ …”Polly starts at the word and makes a mental note to stop doing that.She’s heard far worse at the Duchess, anyway, and it really shouldn’t bother her.It’s just, she figures, the thinking that it’s okay to swear in conversation with her.Because, she supposes, now it is…

“Would you _please_ be quiet and stop being so melodramatic?I’m sorry for getting snappy, but I’m _really_ tired and…” Polly cuts herself off as she realizes Maladict isn’t even listening.His head is back under the covers, and he’s…shaking…Maybe this is worse than she had thought.She climbs over and, checking to be sure no one is awake, puts an arm around his shoulders.She hears him start to speak then stop.He lifts the cover from his head and smiles gratefully.It’s kind of adorable.He reminds her a bit of a little kid she had seen once in the village, wearing a basket on his head.Maladict has that same expression of guilt mixed with a sort of unintentional but prevailing innocence.It leads her mind to wondering what vampires look like as children, when she remembers that some of them don’t even start out that way, and Maladict probably got quite accidentally forced to join their ranks.She feels a bit sorry for him, all of a sudden.

Well, that and the fact that he’s…and suddenly her motherly instinct takes over, and she pulls him tighter to her.

“Don’t _cry,_ come now, we’re in the army after all, eh?Chin up.”She smiles softly at him, and he gives her a wry look.

“Getting a bit comfortable, are we?”Maladict smirks.“I’m not crying.Sweating, perhaps.”

“You sweat?But…”

“Ooh, right, there is that.”His eyes dart around; Polly realizes he’s trying to think of a way to change the subject.“Do you have a girl back at home?”Polly flushes bright red, clears her throat, and makes an honest attempt.

“Er, no, I never really had much time to think about that kind of thing.”

Their hold on each other loosens a bit, and Maladict slinks into a kneel, eyes meeting Polly’s with only their almost-touching noses in between.

“Do you have a fellow?”

Polly corrected her previous assumption that she couldn’t blush any harder.But she makes an attempt.

“No, haven’t got one of those either; like I said, things were busy.”She smirks wryly.“Thought just never crossed my mind.”

“So what you’re saying is, if the opportunity presented itself—”

“Which, as I’ll have you know, I figured it wouldn’t, since after all I—”

“But it wouldn’t really matter whether—”

“Excuse me now _what_ exactly are you trying to inf—”

“Well excuse my deductive reasoning but—”

“I don’t think I will, thank you very much.”She crosses her arms and turns away, nose in the air.“Hmph.”

“In either case, you’re blushing.”Maladict chuckles softly, and Polly crosses her arms even harder.

“Well you were asking me embarrassing questions.Anyway, you should be quiet now.It must be late.”

“Yes; most likely I should.”Maladict closes his eyes, and Polly momentarily wonders who has the upper hand.In perfect time, their two heads snap toward each other, and their two voices manage something like, “You’re a girl.”

Maladict looks as shocked as Polly feels, but he’s— _she_ ’s the first one to speak: “Very late.We’ll wake someone.”

“Shut up,” says Polly.Maladict groans softly and puts a hand to his head, at which point Polly finds it altogether too easy to concede to what Maladict had said, now that she thinks about it.If the opportunity presented itself…And so she smirks and whispers, “I _mean_ it” before roughly kissing him.Her.

Polly opens her eyes, rational thought coming a bit too late to remind her that’s not what you do, and finds herself staring into eyes the size of saucers.Feeling awkward all of a sudden, she pulls away, but Maladict’s hand is soon on her cheek.

“Let’s try again,” Maladict whispers, and so they do.This time they open their mouths, and there’s a moment when she feels a vibration in the hollow of her mouth, realizing Maladict must be making some kind of noise.Polly is triumphant; she really did get Maladict to be quiet.

It becomes increasingly apparent that there’s a sort of single thread of mind wrapping between two people, sometimes, when they’re connected at the mouth.There’s some sort of unspoken agreement that they lie on the floor, and as Maladict pulls away to breathe air that’s at least slightly more fresh, Polly pulls the blanket on top of them.Maladict curls her head into the crook of Polly’s neck and Polly feels the vampire’s tongue flicking across her shoulder; an odd sensation but one she decides she doesn’t entirely dislike.

The whole thing ends up being really very chaste—hands don’t move _too_ much except for some suggestive brushing, and it’s mostly just kissing they do, since after all, quiet was the objective.Shutting up, especially.

And then after shutting up, there is talking.Quiet talking, since everyone else _seems_ to be deep sleepers, but you can never be too sure.Talking that doesn’t make much sense, because it’s far too late to bother with minor details like coherency.

“So I don’t think I’ve ever breathed anyone else’s air before,” says Polly.

“You taste like, hn, chocolate,” Maladict muses.Polly clamps her lips together to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

“Engh.I’m losing my luster, aren’t I.”Polly isn’t quite sure she agrees with this, but she says what’s on her mind:

“I think I like you better when you’re shutting up.”


End file.
